Survival
by Hopefulheroism
Summary: (AU from 5x1) We all know Tony is a survivor. We all know Tony hates talking about his past; but what if he's forced to go back to it? Tony is being hunted; and now he has to go back to the person who helped him survive the first time. TIVA, as well as some McAbby. (Set in season five after episode one. Takes elements from "Arrow" but nobody needs to know the show.)
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue: A bad day**

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**Okay, this is my first story and I'm kinda new to writing on sites. I just hope I get this right and that people like it. This is Tony centred. And takes a lot of elements from Arrow; but you don't need to watch the show; I'll be changing some things.**

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**I don't own NCIS or any other element I take from other shows.**

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When Tony got to work that morning he already had the mask on. The jokes were more forcefully put and the smile seemed to strain slightly. He laughed a little less, but not enough for his co-workers to notice. "Why do you insist on these lies?" Ziva asked later in the day as she cornered him in the toilet again. This time though the man who didn't wash his hands was gone. "Is it not enough for you to let us in?"

Tony smiled largely; it took a little effort he'd later admit. "Why Ziva!" he exclaimed with faux happiness. "Did I detect some caring?"

She raised an eyebrow and held her chin already higher; "You are my partner it is my job to care. You can talk to me." It was ironic she said that. She was the one usually keeping secrets and now she wanted his. She wanted to know what went on in his head; wanted to know just how hurt he was. Tony knew though; a lesson he'd learned years ago; letting people in could be dangerous.

"Oh and you're not secretive?" he snapped suddenly. "I've seen stones that want to talk more to me than you." He zipped up her pants and glowered as the ex-spy looked momentarily flustered. "And even if you talk, it's degrading, meant to bring me deeper down." She nodded and opened the door.

She frowned, "It was not my intention to make you unhappy." Ziva muttered as she walked out.

Tony calmed down before exiting. He gave off the arrogant smile to everyone who passed. Showed them how little he cared. He reached the bullpen and sat down on his desk with his shoes on the table and head laying back into his hands. He closed his eyes and snoozed. He didn't bother working cases while everyone was here. It was hard thinking around so many distractions to his senses.

It may have been years since he last needed those survival instincts require but that didn't mean he didn't try to stay alert. It was almost during the end of the day when everyone went to leave and a cleaning crew came through that Gibbs finally entered the Bullpen from who-knows-where.

He walked past Tony knowing full well that the man was awake. "Director wants to see you." The man merely said. Tony waited a few seconds before reacting and when he did he made sure it was slow. He made sure to show everyone he was tired and that was the only reason he wasn't joking and bothering them. Gibbs looked at Tony with a small crease in his eyebrows. "Make sure you're ready." He stated before going back to work.

The others pretended not to see or notice the words. They kept themselves glued to their work and stayed out of both men's ways. Tony didn't know what the man said or why he suddenly gave a mildly sympathetic gesture. Tony only nodded before stretching a little, more for show than anything. He then made his way up to the director's office.

What he didn't expect were the two detectives. Nor did he expect the director's sad gaze. He didn't miss the glance the cops gave each other. This was a look he'd seen a lot of times. A look he'd given multiple times. A look he'd seen in himself and Gibbs when talking to dead loved ones. "Something wrong director?" he asked casually placing an extra mask of forced calm on his features. "I didn't accidently spray paint your cars, eh?"

The two men looked hopelessly at the director. It was obvious that both had only been in the jobs a couple of months. Director Shepard nodded, "You can leave gentlemen." Both men only nodded giving one last hopeless glance to Tony they wordlessly left. The director started at her agent for a second before looking down.

"What's wrong Jen?" he asked confused, giving a small chuckle, "I didn't do anything stupid did I?"

"Did you really love her Tony?" She asked suddenly looking.

Tony got uncomfortable here, "Yes." He said simply.

Director Shepard sighed, "Why didn't you tell me you two made up." She asked.

Tony gulped, _where was she going with this_? "It didn't last long; I couldn't live the lie."

Director Shepard nodded. "Why don't you take a seat Tony…?" And then she began to explain; yet Tony only heard bits and pieces. "Killed…one shot…dead instantly…sorry…pregnant."

At the last one Tony looked up, "What?" he asked dazed. He could feel the masks slip; could feel himself become fragile.

He felt like he was being ripped in half, "She was pregnant Tony."

"D-Did they get the . . . killer?"

"No." Two letters. Two letters that caused his whole calm demeanour come crashing down. Two words that made him revert to his cold anger he'd last known so many years ago. He stood up stiffly. He kept himself contained enough to stop from throwing the chair at the wall.

"I need to take some time off." He said and for a second Jenny looked stricken. She could guess what he might do but like so many people she didn't really fully know what his plan was. "If Gibbs askes, tell him I'm off on vacation." He didn't wait for answer, didn't wait for any rejection that might come. He walked mechanically through the door and slammed it a little harder than necessary.

He walked stiffly down the stairs with a determined glower on his face. There was no smile; no hard fought mask; no calm, just the cold indifferent man he'd been so long ago; a man out for blood. "Tony." He heard Ziva ask confused, "What happened?" He knew she was concerned but he couldn't speak now. He didn't go for the elevator; he went straight for the stairs making sure to not just jump each flight.

Ziva looked to her other co-workers confused, Gibbs didn't seem to notice his agent's rushed exit and McGee looked just as confused as her. "Uh, boss?" The MIT grad asked, "Did you see-"

"Leave it alone," Gibbs said finally looking up. He gave both of them a small glare, "This is something Tony has to do himself." He knew what his agent wanted to do; he'd been there. Gibbs also knew that Tony would be gone for quite some time, "And you're SFA for now, is that clear, _Elf lord_?" out of everyone here Gibbs could understand, he wouldn't intervene but he'd understand.

Ziva looked worried, and then she met the glance of Director who looked down at them. She looked troubled and when she caught Ziva's confused gaze she merely shook her head.

Tony reached the car lot and got his car. It had been a small mercy they'd blown up his alias's car and not well, his car. He sat in the seat and thought it through. They'd made up a week ago yet with each thing they did together he felt more and guiltier for leading her to believe he was someone he was not. It felt agonizing and finally he ended it. In a fit of rage he his driver side window resulting it to smash and fall cutting his skin.

Tony stared at his bloody hand and let out one tear; "Jeanne…" _Dear god, they would've been parents._ With that he had his plan set. Whoever killed her wanted to cause him pain; they'd succeeded but that wasn't the point. He headed home, he had a feeling there'd be something for him there. And then he'd need to go somewhere he hadn't been in a long time.

When Tony reached his apartment he took out his gun and made sure to make a lot of noise coming in. He went to the living room where he found someone he really hadn't suspected. "Well you took your time." Trent Kort said with a smile. He had a gun pointing at Tony just like Tony had a gun pointing at him. "Even _Ren__é_ was on time for his death."

"You killed her." Were the only calm words Tony had.

"Yes, I did, _old chum_." He looked like a wolf ready to attack. "It's your fault actually."

"She was pregnant." It seemed sentences of more than three words were all he was capable of. "Why?"

"You've been added to the CIA hit list; that was just my form of warning you." He smiled Cheshire like. "You've got about two hours before every assassin asset we have is coming down on you…hard." He stood up, "But I could kill you now and save us all the time."

Tony's hand shook as he watched Kort. The man took his gun and held it an arm's width before crouching down and throwing it to the side. Tony scowled but did the same; "I'm going to crush your skull." Tony muttered. Kort just smiled smugly and attacked. He threw a punch and to his amazement Tony dodged it. Tony grabbed the arm and dragged it over his back causing the CIA agent to land hard on the ground. He had the wind knocked out from him but Kort quickly scrambled up as Tony waited.

Kort scowled but tackled the NCIS agent. While on the ground he pinned the man between his legs and began delivering a few brutal punches to Tony's face. In anger Tony threw him off and while Kort was on his stomach grabbed him by the neck and pulled himself with Kort in a sleeper hold up. Kort elbowed Tony away from him and as Kort struggled to breathe Tony came forward and kicked him in the face.

As Kort fell back stunned he found the gun. He stood up with it concealed behind his back and as Tony walked forward he shoved into the NCIS agent's face. Tony grabbed the gun hand and dragged it up as he delivered a punch to the CIA agent's solar plexus. Tony grabbed Kort's head and suplexed him into a table making the CIA agent release his hold on the gun.

As Tony stood up out of breath Kort looked stunned at him. "How?" he asked only able to get out the word between taking gulps of air.

Tony said nothing to the man lying on the broken table but he did pick him up and made a move that Gibbs showed him. He could distinctly hear the snap of bones and the man falling down, now no longer needing oxygen. Finally Tony spoke, "I had a lot of teachers." Tony opened up his phone making sure not to stare at the broken man beneath him. He then dialled a number he hadn't called in years.

He now had assassins and a pissed off CIA agency. There was only one man Tony knew who could help him. "Slade, I need help . . ."

He heard the Australian voice on the other end chuckle; "I'd say kid," Slade Wilson said, "I hear you've gotten yourself in some deep shit . . ."

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	2. Chapter 01: The Return

**Chapter 1: The return Pt. 1**

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**A/n: I will be making new cases and not just be using old ones and adding a new perspective. I'll still use some of the most notable parts of seven five and onwards but I'm changing the circumstances and how they happen. There will also be a one and a half year time skip.**

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"**We are not now that strength, which in old days moved heaven and earth, that which we are, we are. One equal temper of heroic hearts, made weak by time and fate but strong in will. To strive, to seek, to find, and **_**not**_** to yield." –Alfred Tennyson**

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**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or its characters, or Arrow. I do own the OC's though.**

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_~A year and a half later~_

The man drove to his house in silence for a while. His strangely premature silver hair making him stand out a bit in the darkness of the car. He wore what seemed to be a mix between a smirk and a scowl. His phone rang. Picking it up the smirk won out on his expression. "I'm coming Jenny, we all can't work Director Times, you know."

Jenny Shepard, the NCIS director sighed, "I could fire you, ya know, it might keep you in the house." She knew she was joking. She as well as he did. "Are you bringing the Chinese?"

"Yes, ma'am," he jested as she chuckled. He made the turn into his street making the tires squeal.

"Just hurry Jethro." He didn't say anything but did end the call by closing his cell phone. For probably the thousandth time since DiNozzo left Gibbs felt himself wondering how things ended up like this. He'd broken his own rule; he was dating co-worker. His good mood sobered up quickly once he thought of his SFA – former SFA. Tony had left that day.

Only the next day they'd find DiNozzo's resignation on the director's desk. They tried finding him. Gibbs berated himself and the Italian idiot for being that obstinate. They had then found Tony's phone in his car five miles from his house in a random park. Under the phone he'd left them all notes. They'd all been shocked and Gibbs was more than a little aggressive that first two months; but life would go on.

McGee went to SFA and tried hard to keep up and do Tony's work. Ziva had closed up a little more and it felt like a ghost passed through the bullpen. They'd had plenty probies but none stayed more than two or three weeks. They just couldn't handle the overly aggressive boss and derisive tone of their co-workers. It wasn't intentional; they just felt that these people were unfit to take Tony's place.

The director had taken it especially hard. She felt guilty. She'd sent Tony on those missions, she'd caused the normally closed off ex-cop to fall in love. And then she'd made him go after La Grenouille in other avenues. When the girl Dinozzo liked died the director had been sad, but she'd been devastated when she'd learned the girl had indeed been pregnant. She'd schooled her emotions and called in Tony. When he'd left and she was alone the director allowed herself to cry. It was her fault.

When Tony left and the director got the letter she'd been overtly sad but kept to his wishes. That night she'd went to Gibbs's house and then she went back again the next night, and then the next night . . .

Gibbs thought on all these things as he slowed down and then parked into his driveway. He sat there for a second wondering about where his SFA was and what he was doing. He then thought back on the letter and just how boldly DiNozzo it was . . .

_Hey boss._

_I usually suck at letters, but I felt this was needed. I want you to know that I don't leave without reason. I'm leaving because it would be safer for you all if I dealt with this on my own. I probably won't ever see you again and I'm sorry about that, but it's needed. I want you to know that it was an honor to work for you and that I never regret a second._

_P.S: You should seriously smile some more, watch a three stooges movie those guys always crack me up._

_Goodbye,  
Tony DiNozzo._

He shook his head away from the day dream. DiNozzo had left, but still life went on. They'd continued closing cases and went home. Gibbs opened his car door, his gut began to turn, something was wrong. He took the gun from his holster and looked into the darkness. He saw a glint in the moonlight and only had enough time to turn as the sniper rifle's bullet ripped into him. The shot echoed in the night and as Jenny walked she found Gibbs there. She called the ambulance and went to Gibbs's side.

"Jethro . . . Jethro . . . Jethro!" _Life went on . . ._

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_~The next day~_

The buck grazed at the grass. The sun peeked through the trees but cool shadows lined the jungle. It stood lazily alone, oblivious to its surroundings. Its brown hide had small white streaks and it had rather average sized horns. It didn't notice the predator stalking it.

The wolf was big in stature. It had left its pack confident in securing the prize for today. It had a dirty brown and grey color to its fur. It lay perpendicular five feet off the ground making sure to keep to the bushes. It was nearly close enough to attack. Five more steps. Froth gathered at its mouth, as it licked at its bared teeth. Three more steps. A twig snapped accidently under the wolf's paw and it stopped dead in its track blending into its surroundings. The buck's head snapped up as it scanned the area twice warily. It slowly went back down to grazing. It didn't notice the predator and its close proximity. One more step. The wolf lunged.

Out of nowhere a man burst from shadows. He wore black clothing as well as a hoodie and had a big beard with long hair. The man carried a bow and wasted no time. He first notched an arrow at the wolf. The canine got over its shock and barred its teeth. It had a new threat. The buck sprinted away into a clearing. The wolf wasted no time and ran; lunging at the man. The man released the arrow and skirted away from the falling predator.

He then ran to his quarry. It was halfway through the clearing when the man took aim. He calmed his beating hart as he took deep breaths. He kept his hands steady as he notched another arrow. He aimed just above the animal and released . . .

He arrived at his camp carrying the buck. The man smiled slightly remembering an old cartoon saying, _circle of life…_ That was true. Out here was different than the city. There was nothing left but survival. The small smile that played on his bearded face was familiar. It was the smile of Anthony DiNozzo.

Tony had forgotten what life had been like on the Island. It had been a long time since his last visit and the first month Slade had stayed to retrain his dulled senses. The ASIS agent had to go though. And soon, like always Tony adapted to the situation.

He dropped the buck down on a "table" which was really just four tree stumps close together with wood on top. He never did learn how to do wood work by Gibbs…

His smile faded as he noticed something off. He felt gut churn as he looked at his surroundings. And then he noticed it; the fallen branch by a tree nearby. Tony ignored his bounty for now as he went to look at it. Tree branches didn't fall on their own. And then he noticed it, unlike the evidence that a monkey was there with a jagged rip, this cut was smooth. It was made by a knife.

Tony was tackled to the ground. He rolled with it and grabbed the man by the head driving him into the ground face first. The man punched Tony with his right hand in the gut and as Tony struggled for breath the other man rolled away. The man spat as Tony stood up glowering, "It's good to see the old kid back." The Australian said. He spat out more ground. He looked to the buck, "Nice catch."

Tony grunted and then moved back to the dead animal, "So, did you decide to come enjoy the wildlife?"

Slade snorted, "God, no, had enough of this place the first time." He went to a tree stump lying on the ground, "Why aren't you using the plane?" he asked.

Tony frowned, "Mommy wolf and her three friends didn't like me setting up shop in their new home." He said simply as he grabbed one of his five canteens and threw it at Slade. The spy caught it and Tony went to sit next to him with another canteen. "So why are you here?"

Slade took a swig of water before answering, "I got some Intel that will concern you." He said causing Tony to raise an eyebrow. His newly acquired beard and long hair made reading his expressionless face even harder for the spy.

"The CIA put out the hit on me again?"

Slade shook his head, "We got that sorted out six months ago," he said chuckling, "Of course it did help that there are twenty assassins missing from the world."

"Then why are you here?" Tony asked as he began making a fire.

"There's been a hit put out on your friends," The ASIS agent said. "Especially on the old guy." The _old guy_ was Gibbs. Slade tried reading his young friend's facial expressions but it was made very hard by the beard and long hair.

DiNozzo schooled his expression. "You came here for nothing then."

Slade frowned, "I don't understand, mate," he said confused, "Don't you want to protect them?"

Tony raised an eyebrow, "I'm doing that now," He said, "If I go back it will create a lot more chaos then necessary."

Slade nodded, "You're afraid to face them." He said. "Well I guess you should know that the old guy is in the hospital."

Tony paused before twirling around showing his controlled anger. "Slade, I'm keeping myself in check because you're a good friend, but you should stop."

Slade shrugged, "Why don't you let them in, let them see the Anthony DiNozzo I saw and shaped. Why leave them to the shadows?"

Tony sighed, "You remember when you found me on the Island?" The man nodded, "I was lying under a waterfall on top of the first man I'd ever killed. I cried, I sobbed like toddler. Then you came and showed me how to be strong. Letting them in, it makes me weaker. I feel protected, and that makes me soft." Slade looked at him with a frown before shaking his head.

Slade chuckled, which was very rare, "Have you ever stopped to think that maybe it wasn't them making you soft, or your own paranoid fear of letting others know just who and what you are?" he questioned as he saw the man shrug, "I have a wife and two sons, one of which I named after you kid, do you know why?"

"Cause you love a joke." Tony muttered.

"No," Slade stood up and put a hand on his young friend's shoulder. "Because that kid lying on top of a dead man was strong; you are strong. Besides, I have a family, do you really think I've grown soft?" there was a mumbled yes and Slade punched his friend in the shoulder, "Smartass."

There was a beat of silence between both men. "How bad is it?" Tony finally asked. They both knew what Tony meant by the question.

"Bad, kid, they need you." The Australian had sympathy for his friend.

"Fine . . ." Just like that Tony would go back. The people who had his back were in danger, needed him. They needed Tony to cover their six.

The Australian let out a rare grin, "I was almost convinced I'd have to knock it into you." He clapped the man on the back, "Let's get your crap and get you out of here and into a shower, mate."

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_~The next day~_

The woman sat down at the pew. She looked unremarkable. She had no scars, she had brown hair and her eyes hid behind glasses. She wore a baseball cap along with an elegant dress. The two genres clashed but the woman didn't seem to mind. She had a smirk firmly planted on her face. She looked shapely and in her mid-thirties.

She waited a few seconds and soon a man walked in. he wore a grey suit with a red tie. He had on a fedora, but unlike the woman this man had a scar running diagonally from his ear to his jaw. He glowered as he sat down with the woman, "_Hello,"_ he said in Italian. She said nothing as he handed her a folder.

She looked inside the folder, counting the money, she frowned, "_There's only half in here?"_ She half asked in Italian.

"You haven't killed him yet." The man replied with a Jersey Shore accent; he looked to be near her age. "Until then, I'll be keeping the other half."

The woman nodded, "What about the others?" She asked with a voice slightly tinted by a Russian accent, "I understand there is also an account open for them."

The man smiled and patted her cheek, "Don't get greedy my dear Anya," he kissed her softly on the lips and the woman tried to stop from pointing her guns at his, um, smaller friend, this man was her employer after all. He stopped, "Just focus on Gibbs." With that the woman left and the man with the fedora was left in the church. He stayed there for a while and then a man entered the building; he had an NCIS badge and gun strapped to his hip. He went to a different pew and began to pray. The man with the fedora stood up and moved up to him.

"You wanted to see me?" The 'praying' man asked.

"I wanted to make sure you're ready." He frowned, "This is something important." He grabbed the man's shoulder and as the cuffs of his arms went a little higher. It revealed a tattoo with a string of ten symbols, a mixture of letters and numbers.

"I – I, you promise to pay her the money, right?" The man asked.

The man sent a faux compassionate smile, "Of course I will, what kind of person would I be if I don't?" A monster, a blood thirsty monster out for revenge . . .

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_~The same day~_

Jenny looked down at a resting Jethro. She held his hand more to comfort herself than him. Ducky was outside but Gibbs had yesterday sleepily ordered his team out to catch the asshole. They were still at the hospital and Jenny had ordered two guards be put in front of his room. She knew that soon she'd have to leave his side but that could wait for now. She stared at him and wondered just who did they piss off to get this type of luck?

She still remembered Tony's letter to her, she'd read it and forced herself to remain emotionless after it. He'd told her it wasn't her fault, he'd told her to get out there, go after Jethro and do some good. He'd said he was sorry for leaving but it had to be done. She'd heard a rumor, from the CIA, that Tony was being hunted, what they didn't say was just who was doing the hunting.

As wrong as it sounded, Jenny had become a good friend of the secretive subordinate. It was impossible not to laugh when he joked around. And it was impossible not to become annoyed at his outlandish remarks and constant movie references. Still, Tony was the reason she'd ended up with Jethro again. They were supposed to have an easy evening, a nice relaxing Chinese takeout as they rested, well, she rested, and Gibbs worked on his boat.

She was brought out of her musing by phone ringing for the tenth time in the last two hours. She closed the call and buried her phone in her handbag. Gibbs didn't groan awake like any normal person would. There was no such thing as ex-marine. The man blinked a couple of times as he grunted and sat up. His heart monitor spiked for a second but stopped when he sat back down.

"It lives." Jenny commented. Gibbs grunted again as he held his injured side with his right hand. "You're lucky Jethro, the bullet caught you in the side, and it missed the vital organs and struck the muscle tissue. You still lost a lot of blood though."

Gibbs frowned, "Don't you have a job to do."

Jenny raised eyebrow but smirked, "What? Kicking me out already, Jethro?" She saw Gibbs looking around and said, "Gun's in the left hand drawer." He nodded, retrieved it and put it under the cover before answering.

"If I wanted this to stop it would have ended months ago." He grimaced slightly; he had a headache and that damn beeping noise only made it worse. He also felt crap, getting shot was never pleasant. "Still, your phone is jackhammering my head."

Jenny sighed. Of course Jethro heard that. "Fine, but I'll be here at five. Just make sure not to kill the doctor will you?" She squeezed his hand and walked towards the door.

When Jenny was out of earshot, Gibbs muttered, "No promises…" he waited a few seconds before sighing, he really needed some coffee. "Ducky!" he already knew the British man was there.

Ducky entered the door, "Ah, Jethro, so good to see you're up and about." Jethro tried hard not to be too angry but asked in his usual Gibbs way if he could get a coffee. The British man left to happily get his friend some coffee as he walked past both of Gibbs's guards…

The man walked into the hospital. He wore a baseball cap with hoodie. He had on jeans and had a beard that reached until his neck, it still looked clean. He had long brown hair which he really needed to cut. He didn't go to the receptionist; he already knew where to go. The ICU was a floor up and as the man walked towards the elevator he bumped into a smaller man. "Heavens, I'm sorry my good man, accident's will happen."

Swallowing his emotion the man nodded curtly and moved on. Ducky watched him go off confused, a flash of Déjà vu hit the aged doctor, before he simply shrugged and moved on to get Gibbs his coffee.

The man in the baseball cap and beard got into the elevator and pressed the button for ICU. He'd been here enough to know the layout. Knowing which room was Gibbs's, was even easier. Of course the two guards couldn't even be a bit inconspicuous. Shaking his head, the man had an idea. For the first time in quite a few days, he smirked. He moved forward towards the guards.

"Hey I'm here to see John, is he in there?" The man looked around them at the obviously closed door, "Come on John, it was only a scratch man!" the two guards each put a hand to their weapons and one against the beaded man's chest.

"Sir, this is a restricted area, please leave or I'll be forced to use physicality." The man frowned, what was this guy, a walking dictionary?

The man stopped and stared at the man, "Aw come on, how much John paid you, seriously I didn't hit him that hard!" he pushed a little against both men and they struggled to keep him out.

"Sir!" the other one barked out. "Your friend…is not…here." They shoved him away. They didn't notice when he grabbed one of their batons and he slipped it behind him slightly angled away from them.

"Okay, okay, I can take a hint." He held up his hands. The baton came into view, "The really sad thing is, you can't." he struck as their eyes widened in surprise. One blow went against the left guard's solar plexus, dropping the man gasping. The next blow came to the right guard's leg as he reached for his gun. And as the man came up he punched the guard in the face.

In less than a minute, two big guards were down; one gasping for air and the other off to la-la land. The man chuckled to himself as he shook his head. Amateurs, he hadn't even let his cap fall down…

The man with the beard and baseball cap stepped into the room. He then found himself at gunpoint by the very man he came to see. Gibbs stared at the intruder as his side burned with the effort of keeping the gun up for so long. The man's face was hidden beneath the baseball cap and the beard only made it worse.

"You here to kill me?" The ex-marine asked gruffly. He wasn't going to beg for his life, he wasn't going to cry, he was going to go out fighting; hell maybe he'd take the assassin with him. His hands shook a little under the strain; he was still a little weak.

The man shook his head and laughed, "No."

Gibbs recognized that voice. He started clicking things into place as the man took of the baseball cap to reveal the green eyes of Tony DiNozzo. "Hey boss."

"DiNozzo?"

"The one and only."

Gibbs blinked a couple of seconds, not sure he was seeing what he was seeing. "What's with the beard?" Gibbs asked.

Tony shrugged, "I wasn't really in a place where I could shave."

The two just stared at each for a second before Gibbs nodded, "You sort out your problems." He dropped the gun tiredly.

Tony shrugged, "I'm only staying until we got you all safe."

Gibbs nodded; "Sure," He didn't sound that convinced. He blinked a couple of times, still unsure if this was the painkillers. The two guards outside stood up and nearly bounded inside pointing their guns at Tony. The both stood well away from him. Tony relaxed against the wall and Gibbs whistled alerting them to the person they had to protect. "Get out." He said and the both did as told, like prize dogs.

"So how're you feeling?" Gibbs glared but Tony chuckled. He knew it was a stupid question. "So is there anything I should know before I leave you with Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum out there?"

Gibbs shrugged, "You should talk with Ziva, and I don't really know how you plan on helping as a civilian." He dropped a little farther down the mattress and grimaced at the dulled pain. The pain killers weren't really helping that much.

"Don't worry about the last bit, I've got it figured out." He smirked a little more but it seemed to be hidden under the beard.

Gibbs paused before asking the real question he wanted to, "Why did you come back."

Tony chuckled, "You guys are in some big trouble, and I'm here to bail you out." The former SFA seemed pretty good about himself. Gibbs called Tony forward.

As Tony got close enough, Gibbs head slapped him, "Clean yourself up DiNozzo." Tony nodded and as he went he outside he heard Gibbs mutter, "It's good to have you back DiNozzo." _He had family to protect . . ._

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**A/n: And there you go, chapter 1! I hope everyone likes this and please, REVIEW!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Return Pt. 2**

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_**A/n: Thanks to each reviewer, it's good to know people like my story.**_

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_**I don't own NCIS or Arrow.**_

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_~NCIS HQ, 1 hour later~_

Life had become rough for Timothy McGee. He'd grossly underestimated Tony, and he'd only really begun to realize that after he left. The letter Tim's superior – former superior – gave him wasn't what he'd expected. He didn't want this burden, yet Tony had thrust it out to him. The letter explained a few things to the now promoted Probie. Tony had been toughening him up with the jokes.

Tony had made him ready for the assholes he had yet to face. It sickened Tim that he'd only thought about it now. Tony had been the reason for his now attentive and confident attitude. Tim was angry with his friend/tormentor; but he was also grateful. If he'd been the guy who came in here a few years he wouldn't have been ready. He would have stated his education just to show others he was smarter, but Tony made him realize that although he was school smart; a million other people had street smarts over him. Tim would never have been able to semi-handle Gibbs's crazy mannerisms and he would have been lost.

Now though, thanks to one _very_ special ex-agent McGee was a leader, no more just a follower. He looked from Tony's – his – seat as Ziva exhausted her contacts and he ran through what they collected on the screen while they waited for Abby's faithful call. They'd processed and prohibited the scene. They'd cleared every witness which basically was only director Shepard. And then went to search for the Sniper nest.

It took two hours for them to find it, even with Ziva's skills in assassinations. They'd only received a note under a rock and one sniper FMJ casing as evidence of someone being there. They'd sent both to Abby and then asked Ducky if he could try making a profile of his shooter.

Tim took a look at the profile Ducky had given. She'd arrived half an hour ago, but nobody had commented on it; she seemed to immerse herself in work. He read through it carefully.

* * *

_Categorizing: UNSUB __#__1_

_Due to lack of evidence or any known personal artefacts from UNSUB this firstly has to be classified as a preliminary report._

_Due to the lack of evidence it is clear the UNSUB is meticulous. Due to the positioning of the bullet wounds and witness accounts it can possibly be established that UNSUB was aiming for the victim's small intestine; such a wound would take minutes and in some rare cases hours to die from. This suggests UNSUB is a pathological sadist; who seeks to cause as much trauma as possible. The note left for officers suggest a great confidence, bordering on arrogance. It can also be interpret that UNSUB has self-destructive tendencies. UNSUB, classified as very dangerous and not to be underestimated._

* * *

This worried the SFA. They didn't have Gibbs to watch out for them, and Tony wasn't here to calm them. In the last year the bullpen had become cold, it border lined hostile. Yet not one of them really tried that much to change it; and try as he might McGee just didn't have the courage to taunt – let alone prank – Ziva. The former Mossad officer was more closed off these days.

She went to work calmly, talked with McGee calmly and answered when questions were sent to her way. Yet when they finally got off the rotation she was the first to the door. She was the first to run away, emotionally wise. Abby, Tim knew, still had pictures of Tony in her house and even some here, but currently those were dominated by the picture of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

Speaking of the gothic forensic specialist . . . His phone rang.

Tim picked up his phone and looked at the caller ID. It was Abby. He flipped open the phone, "Hey, Abby." He said before being onslaught by questions.

"Timmie!" Abby nearly screeched. "Is Gibbs okay? Is he going away again? Have you been to see him? I bet he looks awful, Timmie, I can't lose Gibbs too…" Tim sighed; he felt today would be a long day.

He listened to Abby some more as she urged him to come quickly…and to bring some Caf-Pow. His call ended the same time as Ziva's did. "Find anything?" he questioned tiredly.

Ziva shook her head, "I have asked my contracts to tell me if they heard anything."

"Contacts." He muttered a he leaned back and rubbed his face tiredly. He didn't know how Tony or Gibbs did this. He then sighed and stood up, Abby's got something." He simply said and moved to Abby's lab. He didn't notice the man with the brown beard and long hair in the hoodie, shades and hat as he walked past them. Ziva gave the man a fleeting glance before looking down to her bag before frowning.

She looked at the man with his hands in his jean pockets and felt a bout of déjà vu; why did that gait seem familiar? She ignored it and followed McGee, she didn't miss the man's direction though; Director Shepard's office.

* * *

_~Director's office~_

Jenny Shepard knew control. She knew when she'd had the most, least, or when she'd nothing. She knew how important control was. At the moment she had minimal control. Her MCRT was falling apart before her eyes, and that scared her. Yet she knew; Jethro had it under control, for now. It irritated her how little control she really held over the situation. Her – even though it sounded childish – boyfriend was nearly killed by a vengeful sniper. Her undercover operative was in the wind and now she was left here, signing papers.

Jethro had NCIS and his team covering his back; but so far she didn't know just who had Jethro's team's six.

Cynthia had been a godsend from the beginning and the bubbly yet organized receptionist had been quick to comfort her boss. Cynthia had received the call from the bodyguards about someone visiting Gibbs but she didn't tell Jenny. The woman had a lot on her plate already. Cynthia had given the forms that absolutely had to be signed that day but left those she felt could wait.

The door opened as the young receptionist thought of just how she could possibly appease her boss and she frowned. The director had no meetings scheduled. She'd made sure to inform everyone that director Shepard would take their calls another time. The man who opened the door had an athletic and muscled frame that even Cynthia could note through hoodie and jeans. The beard threw her a little off, as well as the fact that the man kept as much off his face hidden as possible. The beard helped, although it looked strange.

He didn't acknowledge her and kept walking for the door. Realizing the potential threat Cynthia stood up and from underneath her desk she shakily produced a gun. "You can't go in there!" She shouted trying to keep the gun steady. She'd kept it in her purse ever since her last boyfriend tried to get back with her and with recent events, namely the personal attack against someone who Jenny was fond of. It was an unnatural reaction for her, but it was a needed one. She would protect director Shepard when needed to.

She looked as he paused by the door hearing the cocking of a gun, before seeming to sigh and just opening the door anyway, not caring about the shaky secretary's gun pointed at his back. The figure frowned as he found himself at the point of yet another gun. He rolled his eyes even though he knew it couldn't be seen. "What is it with everybody pointing a gun at me today?" he asked and Jenny froze. It had been a long time since she'd heard that voice.

She cocked the gun back and put it on its safety before putting it back in the drawer. "You're back." She said. It wasn't a question, just a statement of fact. She smiled slightly, but still felt a little numb to the situation. Cynthia came to the door with the gun but once she saw the director wasn't in any danger she silently closed the doors. "And just in time it seems."

Tony took of the hat as his scraggly beard and long hair came into view. He had a frown placed on his face again. "Hi Jenny," Tony said. He promised himself he'd talk to Ziva but first he had this to sort out. "How've you been?"

She had to admit. The beard looked wrong on the thirty year old agent. It seemed too old fashioned. It wasn't a look she'd ever thought she'd see him styling. He seemed different to her. She didn't miss the alert wariness, or the unkept raw look in his eyes. He looked almost predatory. She frowned as she saw it. She'd once asked Jethro why he hired a cop when he had such a variety of more qualified agents.

He'd given her a rare wry grin and told her that Tony loved to be under estimated. She'd asked what qualified him and Jethro had said that Anthony DiNozzo was dangerous when he showed who really was. Jenny imagined this was Tony without a mask. "I'm worried, but I'm sure you already noticed that. The team you _abandoned_ is cracking under the pressure and someone I care for is hurt." She made sure to emphasize just what he did to the team. "It's good you're back, they need you."

Tony acted like he didn't notice the words but shrugged as he leant against the conference desk. "I'm not back, and only reason I'm even in DC is to hunt the bastard hurting those I care for."

Jenny raised an eyebrow, "At least you care for them." It was a slight condescending tone added. "If you haven't noticed _Mr._ DiNozzo, this agency is under fire. And even under these circumstances I can't activate your agency status without you taking the tests."

Tony said nothing but glowered as he opened his hoodie and took out a file from inside it, "I've been working under long term assignment for the ASIS, call agent Slade Wilson and he'll corroborate that." Tony threw the file as Jenny gave it stare but didn't open it. She looked at it, and then at Tony. The lie churned his stomach but it was needed, there was no Op; just Slade coming up with a back story that he'd protect.

"What've you been doing for Australian intelligence?" She asked confused.

"Working," Jenny took it in her hands and then put it in the drawer alongside her gun.

She closed the drawer and stared at her ex-agent. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

Tony shook his head, "No point." He said with a shrug, "It wouldn't change anything."

"No point," Jenny seethed as she stood up and faced this ghost of her agent, "We tried finding you; we searched your house only to find it empty and you gone. We trace your phone and it leads back to your desk, we wanted to help; we wanted to be there, but you only left only letters and a resignation slip as goodbye!" The stress got to her as she sat back in her chair and sighed.

Tony let her vent, knowing she was right. "I understand why you're angry, I left. I didn't do that without reason though."

"Then why did you leave, Jeanne was dead, but that couldn't be it could it?"

Tony paused as he grimaced before sighing; "When I was younger I was told that getting close to loved ones would get you or them hurt; I…Jeanne's death reminded me of that fact and so I extracted myself from the problem. I was becoming…attached and for me that isn't a good thing. I became dependant, and so I had to…let go." She was frowning as the silent tear slipped down her face.

Jenny Shepard was strong. It was drilled into her from Gibbs not to show weakness but she wasn't beyond a tear now and then. "Then why are you back now?"

Tony paused, "I'm here to put a bullet in the man who would dare put a bullet into one of my friends."

Jenny sighed, "I don't have your gun or badge, it was melted a couple of months ago." Tony shrugged, it didn't matter; "I do have an old back up badge of mine though." She took it out of her drawer and threw it at him; he caught it easily and frowned at the shield. "It'll have to do for now." He nodded silently. "I'll inform the team your back –"

"No." he said finally, "I'll tell them." She raised an eyebrow at him, "It's better." She nodded.

Director Shepard for a second stopped; "Have you talked to Jethro yet?"

Tony nodded, "Yup, broke into his room an hour ago; which reminds me, you need to get a better protection detail." She saw it then; that glimpse of the Tony she remembered before it was swallowed up by a glower; "If that's all director?"

Jenny sighed; at least Tony was in there somewhere. She didn't like this; it made the small hairs on the back of her neck rise. Everything about him. The beard and long hair wasn't Tony. Tony kept his facial features clear and his hair clean. The jeans and hoodie seemed too casual. The Tony she knew loved his suits or expensive clothing. The glowering frown and ghostly look in his eyes seemed terrifying. The Tony she knew would jump at the chance to mock and joke, the Tony she remembered loved living; this one was like a caged animal. He was poised and ready to strike, it was just _unnatural_.

"That's all Tony." She dismissed him. She didn't comment on his difference, he wouldn't be staying, he was just helping. Jenny let out a small smile. Whoever was after Gibbs really did have a death threat.

* * *

_~Abby Scuito's lab~_

Abby had been having a bad day . . . week . . . year. It was all Tony's fault though. The letter he left had been something that made her laugh and cry. It was frustrating the joking powers he had. What frustrated her more was the fact that she couldn't find Tony. She'd seen the photos Gibbs had given her of Tony's apartment. The place had been empty; completely devoid of anything and everything. She'd tracked all the furniture to a charity for orphans. Everything had been sold, even the movies.

So then she tried tracking the phone, which was a dead end in and of itself. So she had Tony's cards – the ones the team knew about – flagged, turned out; he'd closed all the accounts the day before. Tony was gone, in the wind. And so they tried Ziva's contacts that all seemed to have very little on Tony DiNozzo. Although it did seem Ziva wasn't exactly telling the truth to Abby.

Still life went on. Abby kept at least ten pictures of Tony in her lab and the house as she refused to do as Tony asked her. He'd asked her to forget about him and do her job for Gibbs, he'd told her to make sure everyone was laughing now. On the last part she tried a couple of times but it just didn't turn out right. McGee getting his hands glued to the keyboard just wasn't as funny if Tony did it.

Abby sighed as she sat dejectedly in her chair. She wore the spike choke collar (don't ask) with black skirt and a death to Barbie t-shirt. She had her farting hippo in her arms as she stared at a picture of Gibbs and Tony.

That was how the team – what was left of it – found her.

"Abby, you okay?" Tim shook her as Ziva stood to the side a little. Ziva was angry, but kept it concealed. The Israeli felt that this was possibly someone from her past. Maybe it was her father. She didn't know and for the trained assassin it was that, that killed her. She wasn't great with comfort, she usually left that for the others, like McGee or…

It took Abby a few seconds to answer but when she did it broke her out of her reverie, "I'm fine Timmie, and we have an assassin to catch." She shook off his hands a little and stood up. "The person who did this was cocky." She moved to her examination table, "Now, I've checked the ridges on the bullet we got from the car after it hit…Gibbs, but it only matched one rifle, can you guess which one?"

Ziva thought about it for a second as Abby implored them to think, and then Ziva had the answer, "The Marine M40 A1." Abby nodded a little more animatedly, "Gibbs's old rifle." She informed McGee. Even after nearly three years McGee was still a little clueless about the more advanced weaponry.

Abby smiled now, "Correct, Ziva, and now while that might not be all that great, I did find a fingerprint on the casing." She smiled as they looked on a little confused, "I think that whoever shot Gibbs wants us to find them; I put out the fingerprint on AFIS, Interpol, FTA, and just about anything; I expect a result in a few minutes, but that's not all." She moved to her small little office area to the side where another table was under fluorescent light.

"Do I want to ask?"

Abby smiled a little larger, "The note you found was actually quite a cookie, but I think I cracked it." She switched on the light. "Now when I looked at the note under normal lights I saw just a blank page; but then I got a sample into major Mass Spec. and found a strange composition. There were the usual chemical components in what you'd find on a piece of paper, but then I found some special components. Think invisible man." She helped them.

"Invisible ink." McGee grinned; they were getting something done, finally.

They looked at the note, it was made a blue hue by the fluorescent light but the markings on it were no mistake.

_**13/11/78 JOB**_

"I'm still trying to decode it though…" She seemed nervous, "I'm trying a lot of things, looking through people Gibbs knew that year, or were born that time Gibbs might've known…It's going to take a long time." She seemed dismayed by this.

Tim put a hand to her shoulder, "You did good Abby, I'll get you Caf-Pow as soon as I can okay." She nodded at this but sighed slightly, Gibbs would already have one handy. It was then that Abby's fingerprint scan came back. The woman sprinted there in her black shoes and smiled as she got the result she wanted. They were going to get Gibbs's attacker. The others followed her at a slower pace.

"Anya Dormanova," She said. "She's on Interpol's most wanted list for the successful assassination of an Italian politician and an African president." Abby seemed to grimace, "She's good, a ghost, nobody really knows much about her besides her name. And the picture's a little out dated." A picture of Anya came on. She was a blonde who stood at 5,7" tall. She had ice blue eyes and a smirk on her face. She seemed in her early twenties.

"She's kinda hot." A voice from behind all of them shocked them and while Tim and Abby jumped slightly Ziva lashed out instinctively with a right hook. He caught her arm and turned her around. He was more prepared for an attack than she was at the moment. McGee had the sense to draw his weapon and point it at their newcomer. He had a scraggly beard and long hair. He had green eyes. "See you haven't changed much, huh?"

That voice seemed familiar to the Israeli; she could've have sworn she'd heard it . . . before. Like a lightning bolt it struck her and she twisted his arm and pinned him to the table. He chuckled, "What are you doing here!?" She hissed at him. As she waited for an answer he relaxed his muscles before suddenly grabbing the hand that held his wrist and twisting it as he pushed her off.

"Trying not to get killed for one." He was different to the Israeli. It hadn't clicked yet with the others. Tim seemed to be close to understanding and Abby was right on the edge but for the second he held his gun back on the newcomer. "And secondly I'm here to help." The beard made her grimace; along with the attire and unkept look. This was a ghost of who she formerly knew. The man she knew didn't know how to fight her off.

This...person…thing, whatever, wasn't Anthony DiNozzo. The Tony she knew was the classy fool who laughed to hide his fear. This person, and the gleam in his eyes, it was near predatory. "You ran away." She simply said as if that made the anger she felt worth it. It was then that McGee and Abby finally clicked it and both had separate reactions.

"Tony?" McGee asked confused. Ziva still looked hostilely at Tony but McGee felt like a prayer had been answered. Being the leader was wearing thin on him; he wasn't yet ready for this kind of power or responsibility. He had just went on doing what he thought Gibbs would do and frankly channelling his inner Gibbs was very tiring.

Abby though was ecstatic. Tony was back; she grinned openly as she half spear tackled the man. The beard was strange to Abby, but the forensic analyst was quite used to strange as she hugged him, "You're back! Tony, something awful happened, we need help, and Gibbs was –" She was stopped from her rambling.

"Shot, I know Abby; it's why I'm here." Abby couldn't deny the confusion she felt as she, well, felt Tony. It seemed a _very_ special agent had been working out. "And I'm only here to help get you guys out a tough spot okay?"

"Where were you?" Ziva said stopping Abby's question. She just couldn't wait; she was angry with Tony. Out of everything that happened; Tony was a constant. He was there for her when she needed it most, and if she needed cheering up he was the first person she looked to. And he just left, left with a note telling her that she had to forget him and live a happy life. There were other things, but she didn't want to think of them.

He looked at her and then at the picture of the assassin. Tony inwardly sighed, "We don't have the time, if that woman is that dangerous and she hasn't got Gibbs yet…" he left the thought hanging for a second. "We'll talk later; right now we've got an assassin to catch." Ziva glowered and tightened her lip, but nodded. A secret deep part inside her was happy though that he was back, because maybe he would stay.

* * *

_~fifteen minutes later~_

The woman had black hair and brown eyes. She walked through the halls of the hospital wearing the clothes of an orderly. What was strange to her attire were the cherry red high heels which clashed somewhat with her ensemble. She had a swing to her hips that drew a small amount of attention. She had red lipstick accenting the smirk on her face. She seemed to be looking for something. When she didn't find it on the first floor she tried the second floor.

It was here where she struck gold. They couldn't have been more obvious if they'd tried. The smirk of a now in her thirties Anya deepened. She walked closer to them as she took out a mop. She 'mopped' as she assessed them and just how to take both out. Finally she was done with her strategy. She got closer and just as the men began to become a little suspicious she struck.

She brought the wet mop to the one's face, blinding him as she twirled the mop with expertise striking the butt end to the others head. He fell forward dizzily as the first man blindly reached for his weapon. Anya hit the butt end of the mop viciously against the man's throat, he died suffocating. The other man woozily stood up and she decided to give him a small mercy, she did notice the wedding band on his left hand.

She merely got low and swiped the man's legs with the mop stick. He hit his head on the way down, knocking him out. She took a moment to collect herself before standing up. There were no doctors or patients nearby, only a camera of which her face was hidden for. Nodding to herself she stepped over the dead man and went to open the door. She had her gun ready behind her back.

Gibbs was waiting for her; he seemed to sweat slightly from the small strain his tired arms had when he lifted the gun. His hands shook slightly and he had to blink to keep awake from the anaesthesia. "You…the one…who shot me?" The gun seemed lower slightly, not hearing the mental urges by its owners to keep working and lift the damn gun.

"Da," She simply said. She had a lightly accentuated Russian accent, "It is rare for man to dodge bullet." She commented, "Especially mine."

"Well don't I feel lucky." He wasn't going to beg, he wasn't going to cry, he was going to fight damn it! His limbs didn't seem to have that same feeling though.

"Where is English man?" She tried for conversation.

"Sent home." He grit through his teeth. She shrugged like it didn't matter. The gun fell to the bed as his side burned and the heart monitor spiked a little. He glared at her; he was too tired to lift the gun but was sure as hell going out a man.

She smiled, "Robbie sends regards." She said and just as Gibbs accepted the inevitable and closed his eyes waiting for the shot to kill him he heard a sound of something moving fast. There were two thuds and then the sound of someone falling. He opened his eyes realizing, he was alive. Frowning he looked at where Anya lay. She had an arrow in her shoulder and another arrow was imbedded into the wall.

The archer stepped through the door pointing the arrow at the writhing assassin, "You better have some real information; because I really would have liked putting you into a morgue." The words were cold and Gibbs for a second wasn't sure if he was dreaming. Blood began to pool by his side as he looked at the sight; "DiNozzo? Is that a bow?" And then Gibbs blacked out.

* * *

_A/n: Okay, there's part two; one more part to go, before I go more into the story! Review!_


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